Destiny's Destiny
by bunny811
Summary: Destiny is half elf and half dwarf, and so was rejected from both race's kingdoms. When her parents died, Des had nowhere to go until she stumbled upon a pack of wolves in Fangorn Forest. There she learnt to fight, hunt and ambush, and so when the fellowship come across her, they are in for a great surprise; especially the young Mirkwood Prince who banished her in the first place.
1. Prologue

**Hi everyone! So, this is my first fanfic, and I'd love to know what you think. I apologise, the first two chapters might be slow.**

**IMPORTANT! THE FIRST CHAPTER IS LIKE THE FUTURE, THE SECOND IS THE PAST, AND THEN AFTER THAT IT'S PRESENT TIME**

**Eventual Legolas/OC. Follows the stories of both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. No slash or Mary Sue. I'm not copying the book or movie for exactly how they are, so to all the perfectionistic Tolkien fans, I'm sorry to disappoint. But besides all that, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien holds all the rights to this story. **

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Prologue

_Year 3008_

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Des was digging at the soil, creating a trap designed to catch up to five orcs at once. She had laid a net upon the ground, which, when a small lever was pulled, would spring into the air and fasten the contents inside. The grass net had been layered to be strong and very hard to break, yet still quite open so that you could easily see what was inside. Kneeling over her work, she was now carefully covering the flat net with soil, so that it would be invisible to the eye.

The war was raging on around Fangorn Forest, and she had participated in hundreds of battles in the last few years, but today, today, today would be reasonably easy. No orcs had set foot in her domain for at least three days, and she wanted to enjoy the quiet while it lasted. While she worked she thought, feeling herself being carried away by the familiar wave of jumbled thoughts.

How many times had she wondered about the road she was currently taking? It seemed as though she had jumped on a train when she had no idea where it was headed, and now that she was on, she couldn't get off. She was happy with her life, of that she was certain, but she couldn't help feeling that she could be happier, and that she was missing something important. She was vaguely aware that she was lonely.

Des was not simple. She had never been ordinary – but then again, she had never been special either. She wasn't exactly pretty, maybe striking, with violet eyes and jet-black hair, but other than those features she was just a typical girl with olive skin, a body too small for her years, bitten fingernails and a mane of knotty, very un-soft hair.

She rarely went up to men, but when she did, and tried to flirt, she always failed, and found herself blushing dark crimson – which wasn't cute, because it didn't bring a pink glow to her cheeks – nope, Des was one of the many unfortunate souls who went scarlet from the neck up, until her whole face lit up like a bloated tomato!

Des sighed. Besides her bad people skills and plain looks, she had a secret – one that, if anyone found out of, would potentially ensure her death. She wished things could have been easier.

She was interrupted from her thoughts by a call from Treebeard, the low sound of the ent's voice reverberating through the forest. Des finished up the trap and then darted off into the woods to find her friend.

Ducking beneath low boughs and leaping over puddles, she listened to the steady rhythm of her bare feet pounding against the earth. Des never felt as free as she did when running through the forest. When she got to where the sound came from, she found Treebeard in a small clearing, talking to the two creatures he had come across the other day.

'Hullo, lady Des,' chirped the bigger of the beings when she came into their view. Des smiled down at him, _Merry_, she remembered.

'Why hello, dearest Merry,' she winked. 'And hello Pippen,' she directed to the other, who gave her an adorable grin in response.

They fascinated her. _Hobbits_, they called themselves, and Des had never before met such sweet, friendly and accepting creatures in her whole life.

When Treebeard had brought them back the first day, Des had been suspicious of them, thinking them to be orc spawn or spies of Saruman. While the ents chose to remain out of the war and took no sides, Des was a fierce believer that everything coming from Mordor was a threat. These folk, apparently, were not.

Pippin had straight away voiced his opinion, asking, not her name or how she was, but 'What are you miss?' Merry had then lectured him about his manners and a small fistfight ensued, in which Des threw away her judgement and laughed at the light-hearted behaviour.

This time, however, they remained quiet, although both looked as though they were about to burst with an onslaught of questions.

'So, Treebeard, how is it that I may be of assistance?' she asked, touching his arm in concern.

She waited patiently as the ent spoke at the pace of a glacier. She had learnt not to rush him, or he would just go even slower. 'A… company… o…f …three are app…roaching the East… border.'

Des grimaced. 'I'll see what I can do.'

'Thank…you…' droned Treebeard. Des smiled at him before leaving the clearing at a graceful walk, picking up pace the closer she came to the forest outskirts. She slowed and stealthily crept forward when she reached the East Border and heard the soft whisperings of men. _At least I won't be dealing with orcs_, she thought, recognising the Western tongue.

When she felt she was close enough she scaled a tree, relishing in the feeling of bark beneath her fingers. She swung herself up to a sturdy branch and kept deathly still, knowing that her dark clothing would blend her into the olive green canopy. Not even the keen eyes of an elf would notice her now.

She waited as the group slowly came into view. They were obviously trying to move quietly, but the combination of their angry mutterings, whispered arguments and heavy footfalls made it very hard. An odd company, she thought, as she picked out a man, a dwarf and an elf.

She couldn't see them very clearly from so high up, but it appeared as though the man was the only calm one. The dwarf flinched every time a twig cracked, yabbering on about the dangers of this forest, and the elf constantly snapped out at him, implying he too was nervous. Des cocked her head in puzzlement. Elves were very rarely uncomfortable in her forest, as they usually felt at home amongst the trees, no matter how dark they were. Yet this one was constantly checking his surroundings, a fearful frown upon his face.

Nevertheless, they had no business in Fangorn forest. The woods were sick and weary, and would be of no use to anyone except those out for firewood. Seeking shelter in here would be dangerous, and the only time people really used it as a shortcut was if they were heading from the North or the South. Yes, they were up to no good.

Des silently slipped out her small niche in the trunk and climbed to the ground. A battle strategy formed quickly in her mind and she notched an arrow. Watching as the company slowly made their way towards her, she breathed gently and mounted the bow to the perfect level.

The dwarf was the first to break her concentration as he loudly stepped on a dry twig. Des let the arrow fly, watching as the short being let out a startled grunt and blocked it with his axe just before it hit his shoulder blade. She scurried to the shrubbery on her left and released a second arrow that whizzed past the elf's ear, trimming a couple of his fine hairs off.

The flustered group went into fight stances, and Des faintly heard the man tell his comrades to remain calm. The elf, although he couldn't see her while she was ducking behind the undergrowth, sent one of his own arrows back at her general direction, and Des smirked as it landed in the foliage to her right.

She listened with interest to their new conversation as she prepared a third arrow.

"We've been ambushed!" warned a clear voice.

"Ow, laddie, your arrows are poking my head," interrupted a gruff, bearded one.

"Who could it be?" asked the third male in a cautious tone. "He is shooting elvish arrows, not orc ones."

There was a silence, then, "It is no _he_. I have a feeling that it is the Guardian of the Forest," came the first voice, more panicky this time.

"I thought she was just a fairy-tale to scare wee dwarflings from this forest," said the gruff male, also worried now.

"Well it worked, didn't it?" smirked the first, allowing a bit of humour to slip into the conversation.

The third male, who seemed the most sensible of the three, called out to Des. "We mean no harm to you or your forest!"

Des rolled her eyes, they all said that. Straightening up from behind the bush, she let go the third arrow, which soared towards the man who had just spoken. He was standing just in front of a tree, and the arrow lodged itself in the bark between his legs, making her intentions clear – it didn't matter whether he meant her harm or not, she meant _him_ harm.

"Right then," said the dwarf. "We make for the trees?"

Des rolled her eyes again and shot an arrow at the branch above his head, causing a shower of dry leaves to fall down on him.

"Maybe," said the elf tightly, "We should talk a little _quieter_?"

The man agreed and murmured some inaudible instructions, to which the other two nodded.

_Oh no they didn't_, thought Des. _She_ made the moves around here. When she looked back, however, the elf had vanished, and only the man and dwarf remained. She was slightly uneasy – there _were_ three of them, and only one of her.

Suddenly an arrow grazed her arm, drawing blood. Des let out a gasp, diving back from her current spot. The elf was far away, but it was obvious he could see her from his angle in a tree. She scampered to the row of shrubbery behind her, but when she looked back again the man and dwarf were quickly advancing towards her.

Giving up on hiding she shot back two arrows, one just missing the elf in a new tree and the other stopped in its descent by the man's skilled sword-play. She leaped up and began racing through the forest, not looking back but knowing that her pursuers were hot on her tail. Only thirty metres lay between them, so she pushed as hard as she could, picking up pace as she jumped over the foliage and twisted her way through the trees.

She led them on wild chase, not slowing even when she started growing short of breath. Suddenly she heard the rough panting and heavy breathing of the man right on her heel. She jumped to her left and rolled to avoid the hard impact, coming up with raised twin-knives. He too was in a battle stance, his own sword levelled at her.

They attacked at the same time and their blades clashed, Des quickly realising that he was stronger and had a more powerful weapon. Not only that but she noticed that the elf had almost caught up to them from swinging his way through the trees, and Des had no chance of winning a two against one fight.

Using one knife to block his sword she swiped at his unprotected torso with the other, distracting him enough to give a hard, curved kick to the back of his knees that sent him crashing to the ground. Not delaying another moment, she tucked her knives back into her belt and set off at a run again, seeing in the distance that the dwarf too had arrived at the scene.

They went deeper and deeper into the forest, and Des felt herself growing weary. Her chasers were clearly a lot fitter than her, and she needed a break soon – her eyesight was blurring and her legs felt as though they were about to give way.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a slightly browner patch of soil where the ground was more unearthed. Her trap! She needed to lead the company to it, and fast – they were gaining on her quickly.

With a series of quick bursts forward and around, she was on one side of the net and they were on the other, though still about fifty metres away. Now, where was that lever? Behind her was a mass of rocks and dense trees – she had reached a dead end. But where was… there! The brown woodwork of the lever was concealed behind the vegetation just behind her.

She turned to face her followers and started edging backwards slowly. As she had hoped, upon seeing that she was trapped they too slowed and made to corner her. She felt her leg bump against the prickly leaves of the undergrowth and stopped. They just needed to come a bit closer. More, more…there! Des reached back and yanked the lever arm down.

With a _twang_, the rope pulled tight and snapped the net shut and up into the air, bringing the surprised males to a flailing halt and causing them to dangle and sway slowly, now suspended below a tree branch.

Smirking at her success, she went to examine her hostages, relieved by the chance to catch her breath. She would decide what to do with them depending on what information they gave her. She approached their wriggling forms and took delight in the glares the dwarf was sending her, ignoring his insults. The man was angry but remaining calm, and the elf was on the other side of the net.

She reached to her tiptoes and with a swift slice from her dagger, cut the net loose from the rope, almost laughing when the captives landed with a thud and several curses. She kicked the net slightly so that she could talk to all of them at once.

"Well, well, we-" Des froze.

It couldn't be.

Suddenly all proud feelings vanished, and she felt as though everything had suddenly gone upside-down. How many times had she had nightmares about the male in front of her? She felt her expression morph into one of horror as she gazed down at him. His eyes were downcast as he avoided her shocked stare, but still she could see the bright blue irises beneath. Nothing could mistake his blonde hair, shining even though there was no sunlight.

"No. This isn't happening," she said, recoiling in disbelief. The man and dwarf turned in the net to look at their friend in confusion, but the elf had finally mustered up the courage to look at Des.

"Destiny Everglade," he said quietly. "We meet again."

Des could hardly breathe, let alone speak. "_You,_" was all she could say.

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**Thanks for reading! Hope you like xx**


	2. Chapter 2: The Dwelf

**IMORTANT! From now on I will be displaying important information, if there is any, at the bottom of chapters, and all the other shit that no one gives a damn about, like disclaimers, reminders and my thanks to reviewers, will be shown above the chapters! Kay, cool ;)**

**This chapter is currently taking place about a century before the fellowship of the ring.**

**Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien holds all the rights to this story.**

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The Dwelf

_Year 2850 (158 years earlier)_

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Her name was Destiny – kind of cliché for the girl who would have such a great fate. It wasn't the nicest name, although Destiny admitted that it had quite a catchy ring to it, and that it was better than some old fashioned, weird one, like Helga or Gertrude. She still however, preferred to be simply called "Des", even though _that_ wasn't the nicest name either.

She lived in Middle Earth in the Third Age, home to the elves, dwarves, wizards and men, as well as many other unique beings. These beings all coexisted well with one another other; each playing an important role in bringing prosperity to their realm. In fact, the only two races that didn't get along with each other, were the dwarves and the elves, as if an elf set foot in the land of dwarves or a dwarf in the land of elves, they would be either imprisoned or banished.

Which was why it was a pity that Des was half dwarf and half elf, otherwise known as a dwelf, and was doomed to never be accepted in either lands.

She still remembered when she had first discovered that being a dwelf automatically translated to "disgusting, stupid, embarrassing excuse of a creature," as the elves liked to name her, and "pathetic, prancing, girly, outcast pixie," as the dwarves tended to call her.

She was only four that day, and had been wondering through the snowy woods in search of shelter, food and comfort, for her parents had just died.

They had lived in a big burrow beneath an oak tree, and when her Naneth and papa had gone on a hunting trip and not returned by nightfall, Des had gone out looking for them; her small, wobbly legs trudging through the thick layers of snow, and eventually carrying her to her parents' bodies: her father's pierced through the heart by an elven arrow, and her mother's supporting a wide gash brought by a hammer blow.

She had cried for hours and hours, until her voice was hoarse dawn was approaching, but it was only when the first rays of sunlight started pushing the shadows back that her tearstained eyes had taken in her surroundings.

She was clearly sitting in what had once been a battlefield. To her right, hundreds of elves had been killed in the snow, most having similar wounds to her mother, and to her left lay hundreds of dead dwarves, most with fine slashes or thin arrows sticking out their sides like her dad.

Her parents had been caught in the middle of a war and been confused as participants.

Des had got up in search of someone's help then, and had stumbled through the woods – woods she had previously loved for their life, protection and resources, but now feared with all her being – until she walked straight into the path of a troupe of elves; her mind being so distraught that her sensitive ears hadn't picked up their soft sounds.

She could tell straight away from their black, brown and green battle gear that these were the elves that had killed her Pa in their war, even though their camouflage kit was not blending that well into the black and white winter landscape. Her purple eyes, now wide with fear, took in their intimidating forms: all were on horseback and carrying bows and blades which she reeled backwards at the sight of.

The elf at the front of the group, obviously the leader, moved his horse towards her and looked down at her with disdain. His light hair was braided in the typical elvish fashion, and Des felt suddenly embarrassed by her own raven hair which was knotty and flying loosely through the soft breeze.

'Who are you?' he asked sternly. 'What business does an elfling have in the Mirkwood forest of my people?'  
_Mirkwood_? Des was too young to understand what he was talking about. She blinked in confusion and took a step back, fearful of what he would do to her if she gave the wrong answer.

'Speak, elleth!' he shouted louder this time.

Suddenly a young elf trotted up to the leader, his horse a brilliant shade of white. 'Ada,' he said softly, hair a similar colour and style to his father's. The boy could not have been older than eight, and Des supposed that he had probably not fought in the war, and just been there to watch and learn. 'How come she is different from all the other elleths my age?' he asked. 'Her skin is so much darker and she has no pointy ears,' he pointed out, confused.

The leader glanced from his son to the frightened elfling in front of them and narrowed his eyes; the boy was right. 'Who are your parents?' he asked, more curious this time.

Des perked up suddenly – a question she knew! In a soft, timid voice she said, 'My naneth is Beliwyn and my papa is Axon.'

At this, elves suddenly gasped and backed their horses up, some looking horrified and disgusted. She heard shouts from a couple of them.  
'The banished ones have returned!' said one, and another,  
'It is the outcast with the tainted blood!'  
The boy who had spoken to the leader brought a hand to his mouth and looked up to his father in fear.

'Ada!' he said. 'She is…dangerous; who knows what she could do to us? Let's leave, please!'  
'Yes,' replied the leader. 'But first we must get rid of her.'

'No, wait!' shouted Des, bringing her arms in front of her in defence when she realised what they were saying. 'My parents have just died, please don't leave or hurt me!'

The elfling now turned to her with horrified scorn written all over his face. 'They deserved to die!' he shouted. 'They were an embarrassment to our kind, and so are you!'

His father sneered down at her before looking to his child. 'Well said, Legolas.' He turned to face the restless elves behind him. 'My son is right. The dwelf-scum is not worth our time! Let's go!'

With that, he turned his horse back to face her and it reared high into the air, whinnying loudly as its legs bicycled through nothingness. Des was petrified and fell backwards in shock. 'You are banished from Mirkwood,' roared the king. 'Do not seek refuge or help in these forests again.' When the horse landed with a thud it just missed her, but the leader charged straight forwards and Des felt heavy hooves crush down on her right arm as it trampled over her without a second thought.

Letting out a scream of pain, she desperately crawled out the path before 'Legolas' could do the same. Clutching her arm with one hand and dragging her body with the other, she pulled herself over a fallen tree trunk and watched from the side as the remaining riders charged forwards while shooting her death glares on their way. One turned and spat on her, but it was only after they were all completely out of sight that she wiped the spit away and let her tears fall. Loud sobs shook her body as she took in her broken arm: it was twisted at a horrible angle and bruised incredibly badly.

She had lain there for ages, waiting for death to take her, for surely she couldn't survive in pain this excruciating? It was only after a whole day of lying motionless that she realised that she was not going to die, and went in search of red-berries, for her stomach was rumbling loudly and her joints stiff from not moving.

She wandered the woods for weeks then, shivering in the cold temperatures and hiding in animal holes when sleet came down. She became lost, and it was only after walking for ages with a twisted arm and frozen toes, that she finally arrived at her burrow.

She managed to find the healing ointment her mother had made, and within days after applying it as she had seen her naneth do, her arm had returned to its normal state again. She stayed in the warmth of her home until her lips turned from blue to pink and her toes were able to move again, and then began preparing a travelling bag, for she could not live alone in this horrid place.

She packed food and clothes, and then set out on a journey that led her out of 'Mirkwood', and towards a new life. As she went through the wintery forest, she prayed that she would find a home and love again; that she would make it out of this sudden nightmare alive and well.

Little did she know how impossible it would turn out to be.

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_Year 2860 (10 years later)_

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White turned to green, and green to gold, as Des finally ventured from Mirkwood to the golden forests of Lothlorién. The elves there were just as cruel, and sent her from their kingdom with words of hatred and disgust weighing heavily on her heart.

She had almost left the forest when a soft white light stepped into her path, quickly transforming into the shape of a woman. Des knew this elleth. When she had visited Dale she had been given an old book called the _Wonders of Middle Earth_, and it was from poring through the pages of this book that Des learnt about her world's history and knowledge. She had seen this elf in many pages of the book. Lady Galadriel.

Des narrowed her eyes at the lady when she spoke, a soft smile gracing her lips.

'Greetings, Destiny, daughter of Beliwyn the elf and Axon the dwarf. You have travelled far, and for many years, in search of a place you can call home. Where is it that you are going now?'

Des stiffened at hearing how much this woman knew of her. 'I shall head to Rivendell, my lady,' she said tightly, hating how she had to respect the elleth even though she had done nothing to deserve it.

Galadriel smiled knowingly at her, but then her voice grew grave. 'I fear that you shall have no more luck with the elves in Imladris than you did here. The elves and dwarves of our kingdom are vengeful and seek someone on which they can blame the things they cannot comprehend, and you, a symbol of elf and dwarf who have overcome their differences, appear to be a good target.

'In another time, you will be welcomed into our lands, but for now, do not try to change what already is. The woodland elves you came across ten years ago have long since sent out a message to all the elf kingdoms warning them to be careful of a purple-eyed, dark-haired elf enemy.

Des fought the urge kick something when she heard this. 'But do not despair,' she continued, 'for I foresee a bright future ahead of you, and in a century or two, you shall find the love and home that you crave. Head to Fangorn Forest; the inhabitants there will welcome you and the forest provide you with protection and new hope.'

Des mulled carefully over Galadriel's words. _A century or two?_ That was a long time. But something about the elleth's kind demeanour and wise advice made her willing to agree. 'Okay,' she replied, 'Thank you for your kindness.'

Galadriel bowed her head in acknowledgement, before speaking again. 'For your journey, I shall give you three gifts, for I sense that it will be a long, hard one.' She put a hand into the folds of her white gown and brought out a metallic box that Des couldn't see inside. She carefully pulled out a folded paper and looked at Des, eyes twinkling. 'A map,' she said, 'to guide you to your destination.'

She took out a thin sheet of metal and showed it to Des, who now saw that it was a mirror. 'A looking glass, to remind you of who you are,' she said, handing both the map and mirror to Des. 'And lastly,' she pulled out a big vial with a clear liquid inside. 'An ointment that will help you stay unrecognized, when you do not wish to be discovered.'

She handed Des the vial, which was the size of her hand in width and forearm in length. The dwelf puzzled over it, wondering what exactly it did. She took her backpack, now worn and dirty from its fourteen year's use, and placed all three objects inside.

'Thank you,' she said, but when she looked up, Galadriel was gone.

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Des stared around her. Fangorn forest was dark, very, very dark. Trees twisted and contorted at odd angles, bows beckoned her with long, spindly fingers, and the wind rustling through the leaves called to her. Shades of grey, black and dark green met her violet eyes, and Des actually let out a smile – the first one she had shed in a decade.

This place was going to be her home, she thought. She loved old, great trees like these, and she practically skipped through them; leaving the path long behind. She breathed in the air. It smelt of earth, rain and wood.

Feeling excited and keen, she let out a girlish giggle and ran, jumping over fallen branches and dodging the trees as she swiftly released the tension she had been holding onto her whole life. It felt so good. At last she was free, free of her haunting memories and the unkind words that had been spoken to her.

She was so caught up in her relief that she didn't notice the yellow eyes staring at her through the undergrowth, until she stopped in a sunlit clearing and suddenly felt very watched. Everywhere she looked, large grey eyes and black snouts looked up at her. She swivelled in a 360 degree angle to see that she was completely surrounded as wolves started emerging from the foliage.

Fear caught up with her then; these were the black and white wolves of Fangorn Forest that people always spoke about in their personal horror stories. She remembered a man from Dale. He had said that he was hunting in the forest one day with his brother, and that he had noticed that his sibling was missing, heard a great wolf howl, and then never seen him again.

Des took a step back, but this only brought her closer to the wolves behind her. The beasts started circling in on her, drawing closer and closer to her now petrified frame. Suddenly a huge shape stepped forward in front of her, easily filling a gap big enough for two wolves. It was a massive, snow-white wolf. Des recoiled in horror; she was done for. But even as she knew she was about to die, Des could not help but stare in awe as the beautiful creature began padding towards her, eyes watching her carefully.

Suddenly Des remembered something she had seen in the _Wonders of Middle Earth_ – there was a chapter about a wolf tamer. She had marvelled at the idea of someone able to calm the great beasts, and had read with intrigue.

As she remembered what he had done, Des bowed low to the ground, but without breaking contact with the wolf's black eyes. _What happened next?_ she thought desperately. Ah yes. She sank to her knees and looked at the ground now, arms resting gently in the soil, despite how she was shaking with fear slightly. Soon she felt hot breath on her head, but didn't move. This was the final part. The wolf would either bite her neck and end her life quickly, or move away, and Des would remain alive. She shut her eyes tightly in fearful anticipation.

Suddenly the hot air left her, and she looked up in shock. The wolf had stepped back and was now watching her with its head cocked to the side. Des let out a breath of air she hadn't realised she had been holding, and released a second smile. She hadn't thought it would work, and now she realised that this was the first time she had ever been relieved to be wrong.

The wolf leader turned around then, and started walking back the way it had come from. The entire pack soon followed it, and Des was left sitting alone on the ground as the last of the wolves started leaving the clearing. She felt a strange emptiness inside her as they went, though she blamed it on the disappearance of her adrenaline.

Just when she thought they were going to be gone completely, the last one turned around to look at her. It was a big, jet black wolf, and had watchful blue eyes. It contemplated her for a moment, before nodding its head the way it was going and looking at her again.

Somehow she knew. It was asking her if she was going to come.

Des was crazy. Surely she was mad, for just the fact that she was contemplating such a dangerous, unpredictable idea was beyond anyone's wildest imagination, and would probably get her killed. And she was even crazier for standing up then, and following it out the clearing and towards a cave on the outskirts of the forest.

Perhaps she was mad, but from that moment on, as she learnt to hunt with the pack, craft her own weapons and find peace at last, Des realised something. Lady Galadriel was right, for she had found a home again.

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**Thanks for reading! This was the slow chapter so it'll get better now. Reviews are appreciated, as is informing criticism! xxx**


	3. Chapter 3: Guardian of the Forest

**Thank you for the reviews everyone! **

**Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien holds all the rights to this story. **

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Guardian of the Forest

_Present Day; Year 2940 (eighty years later)_

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Des pulled on her combat boots and shrugged on the brown leather jacket she had had for over thirty years now. She had stolen it from a gathering of men cutting down trees for the sport of it, along with several other costly items, such as elven twin-blades and fine silver arrows.

That day had been great, she remembered, smirking at the thought. The men had already chopped over twenty of Fangorn's trees, and so Treebeard had called on her to stop them.

The best part of an attack was the ambush, and frightening the trouble-makers. She been hidden in the tree tops, shooting arrows that seemed to appear from nowhere which only just missed their heads, or finely scraped a millimetre of their flesh off. Then the wolf pack pounced out from behind trees, silently herding them away from their horses and possessions like they'd practised. Des stole a couple of their supplies while they were distracted and then frightened the horses away so that the men were left alone in the forest.

Of course, she would always leave a bit of food for them so that they wouldn't die, but she always took enough from them so that they would have learnt their lessons, and also have stories to tell when they returned home.

That was how she became famous. People would speak about the Woman of the Woods, the Guardian of the Forest or the Wolf Whisperer. For that was what she was. Anyone bringing harm to Fangorn Forest would pay a heavy price, and all knew of her pact with the black and white wolves.

She was an orc slayer, a goblin destroyer and a thief to men, elves and dwarves. But she would not keep most of the things she stole. Clothing would end up on the doorsteps of Rohan's orphanages, and weapons at the blacksmith's workshop. Food would be shared among the forest's animals, and everywhere where a box of new trinkets appeared, there would be no sign of the deliverer except a lone howl in the middle of the night.

In fact, the only things Des had kept over her eighty years serving the forest, was a pretty book of fairy tales, a silver bow and quiver, a long, elvish blade, her twin-knives and the leather jacket. The rest of her possessions had been bought in trade of handmade objects she had fashioned from tree bark, animal skin and stone.

Sitting on her comfortable armchair, Des slipped two daggers into her boots and swung her bow and arrows over her shoulder. Beneath her jacket she was wearing a grass top she had made that covered her chest area and revealed a bit of her stomach, as it was necessary for agile movements and speed.

She wore tight, dark pants that blended perfectly into the trees, and a long blade strapped to her belt. Opening her locked cupboard, she gently took out the gifts that Galadriel had given her many years ago.

She uncorked the vial and lay down on her puffy bed. Bringing it towards her face and tipping it slightly, she let two drops of the liquid fall into each eye, then closed it and placed it on her bedside table. She then took out her mirror and examined her face in it. Two piercing, purple eyes stared back at her, eyes she had always found rather strange. Of all the people she had ever attacked, she had never found another being with eyes the same shade as hers.

She sighed and looked again in the mirror. Her hair had been drawn up in a high pony, with loose black tendrils falling down her face. _I'm going to have to change that colour_, she thought.

As she watched, her irises in the mirror started transforming; turning from purple to brown. She mused; the vial had never given her brown eyes before. Green, black, blue, grey, but never brown. She liked how her eyes now looked more natural against her olive skin.

Next she applied some of the liquid to her scalp, and after a minute, she watched as her hair turned brown too. Brown was a common colour for her hair though, as people would be more likely to forget a brown-haired thief than a black one.

She placed the vial back in its drawer, and noticed that it was almost empty. She didn't worry like she had the first time it had happened though, when she had thought that she would never have the Changing Potion again. Now she just continued with her work, knowing that it would replenish immediately after running out.

The Changing Potion was the reason no one knew what she looked like. Hunters would go home talking about the blue-eyed, white-haired elleth, but would then be caught up in a fight with another who swore he had seen her as a woman with green eyes and red locks.

She liked it that way, because not only would people never know that she was the long-since vanished dwelf, but when she went down to Rohan to buy clothing and weapons, no one would want her dead for what she had done to them.

Shaking out of her thoughts, Des got up and left the prettily decorated cave she now called her home, going in search of Lupinea: the black she-wolf who had looked at her when she first arrived.

Des let out a long but quiet howl, _come_. Soon Lupinea was in front of her and watching Des with her intense gaze. The dwelf smiled. Lupinea was the only wolf other than Shelia, the white wolf-leader, who could support Des on her back. Lupinea also blended well into the darkness of Fangorn Forest, and so when Des carefully climbed onto the wolf's back and grasped the dark fur at her shoulder blades, she felt completely camouflaged. The wolf took off and Des had to bend low and hold tightly to her as they jumped over the rocks and small streams that littered the forest.

Des knew the forest like she knew the back of her hand. She knew that soon they would round a bend and have to duck below a half-fallen tree; she knew that around two more left turns they would come near the sunlit clearing that most travellers tended to stop at, and she knew that generally when they stopped there in the evening, which it was now, they would go in search of firewood and probably cut down trees.

Sure enough, when they rounded the second corner of the forest and arrived about two hundred metres from the clearing, Des could hear male voices echoing softly through the woods, and horse hooves pacing heavily upon the ground.

She shivered. She had disliked horses from the moment she had been trampled on almost a century ago by Legolas's father – who she now recognized as Thranduil – and so being near the mares and stallions was always the worst part of an attack.

Des carefully dismounted from Lupinea and began treading softly across the leafy ground. She never knew when travellers had sent out scouts and watchmen, so she always remained quiet, just in case. She nodded her head to Lupinea and the wolf silently darted off into the trees, far enough to not be found, but close enough to hear if she gave the attack signal.

Des continued on her way, and soon she got to a big, beautiful tree which she began to climb, finding what seemed to be impossible footholds and the thinnest of branches to pull herself with. Higher and higher she went, until eventually she could poke her head through the canopy and see the twilight-pink sky, feeling the warmth of the sinking sun's rays on her head. She could sit like this for hours on end, but today, she had a job to do.

Ducking back under the shelter of the treetop, she began moving to the absolute furthest area of the branch she was on. When she reached it, the next tree was just a yard in front of her, and so, with a silent leap, she jumped across and began repeating the process.

Eight trees later, Des found herself looking down on a huge group of elves. There were enough of them there to fill the entire clearing with their camp, and the clearing was easily big enough to contain a party of fifty. If they decided to cut down trees, Des was going to need to summon the whole pack of forty wolves to trap them. Elves, as Des had discovered, however, were often a lot more conscious of their treatment of the wild than the other races, and she felt as though she probably wouldn't need to call for them.

But something kept her there, completely concealed in her tree, watching as the somehow familiar gathering busied themselves by getting ready but without starting any fires. _Clever elves_, she thought.

But still. She recognized them from somewhere…perhaps they had come to her forest before?

Suddenly one elf from far away turned towards her, and looked straight up at the tree she was sitting in. She almost gasped in panic. 'Son,' he shouted, and she realised that he was actually looking a couple of feet below her. 'What can you see?'

The boughs below her shook slightly, and an elf dropped down to the ground from at least thirty feet in the air. He crouched to avoid the impact, and then stood up, showing Des that he was very tall. From behind him, she could see a quiver and bow strapped to his back, and that he had neatly braided blond hair.

He turned then, to survey the outskirts of the clearing, and Des nearly fell from the tree in shock. Even ninety years later, Des could recognise the bright blue eyes scanning the ground below her, as their owner spoke back. 'Nothing, Ada.'

Des felt faint suddenly. _Legolas_.

The Mirkwood Elves had returned.

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**Hope you like it! Xxx**

**One more thing to remember: this is taking place a long time before lotr, so even though elves and dwarves don't hate each other that much in the books, they do in the period of time this story is set in.**


	4. Chapter 4: Revenge

**Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien holds all the rights to this story. **

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Revenge

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Des brought a hand to her lips to stifle a gasp. These were the elves that had all but killed her. A number of different emotions bore down on her at once. Remorse and pain at the memory of them, shock and fear at seeing them again, and then finally, fury. Fury and hatred at seeing them again, here in _her_ forest, when she had sworn to herself long ago that she was going to completely forget them.

Now they were in her domain, and the only thing she wanted was revenge; to see them suffer as she had. She felt her lips twist in a silent snarl, and carefully inched forward on her branch so that she had a better view of them.

Her ears, although not pointy like elves', were still very sensitive and easily picked up the sound of one Mirkwood elf going up to their leader.  
'Thranduil,' he said. 'We should not be staying overnight. I and several of the other elves think it would be more wise leave now.'

Thranduil turned away from Legolas to look at him. 'I'm sorry Aluidan,' he said, 'but it is too risky to navigate Fangorn Forest at nightfall.'  
'Yes my king, it's just that…we are less afraid of what awaits us in the dark than we are of what may approach us while we are resting.'

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at him.  
The other elf looked down sheepishly. 'The rumours of the Woman of the Wood bother us; we do not like being in the territory of such a dangerous potential threat.' Des smirked. _Good, let them be afraid._

Thranduil nodded understandingly at this. 'I have heard the stories of her and her raids, but do not worry; I made very sure that we will remain safe. You see,' he said, 'the lady only strikes those who have brought harm to the forest, and as you may have noticed, we have deliberately not started any fires or killed any animals sparingly.'  
Aluidan nodded at this. 'I understand, my lord. In fact, I do actually recall hearing that her attacks were rightfully deserved.' _Rightfully deserved indeed, just as yours will be_, thought Des. 'I shall tell the others,' he finished.

Thranduil smiled as the elf left him. Legolas had approached by now, and Thranduil placed a hand on his shoulder. 'We should be safe from the Guardian of the Forest, but make sure nothing else interrupts us; our journey to Rivendell must stay safe,' he said, turning to go. 'I shall have two more elves sharing your watch with you.'

Legolas nodded and began to walk back to the tree Des crouched in. As quietly as possible, she slipped out the oak, taking extra caution in not rustling any of the leaves. Jumping straight to a neighbouring redwood, Des resumed her hiding, and watched as Legolas climbed to his original spot.

She would wait till nightfall, she decided, and would then quietly attack every elf in the clearing in a way that would be the equivalent of what they'd done to her. She grinned deviously and rubbed her hands together as an idea sprung into her head. She would hit their most valued possession: their pride. As quietly as possible, she left the tree she was in and began walking back to her cave to gather the necessary equipment for the task.

_4 hours later_

Des crept back to the circular clearing, armed with several gadgets. Legolas had gone from his perch in the oak tree, but to where, Des had no idea. She shrugged to herself; his lack of appearance would only make things easier for her. She carefully set down the Gas Breather so that she had both arms free to put on her gas mask. If the Breather worked as well as the original owner said it would, it would send everyone in a one hundred metre radius into a twelve hour sleep.

She quietly snuck to the centre of the clearing, easily blending into the night in her dark clothes. Tiptoeing as softly as she could when she passed closed green tents, Des placed the object down on the floor. She glanced around her. Silver and leaf-green bivouacs littered the area in a neat formation, and the horses had been cooped into a temporary pen at the far right of the clearing. She noticed one tent much bigger and more extravagant than the others, and assumed this was the Mirkwood king's. _I'll have to pay an extra visit to that one_, she thought, then turned back to the Gas Breather.

It was the size of a tissue box, with a small horn facing upwards on top of it. It was black, and on its side rested a small switch. Des gently flipped it after making sure her gas mask was secure, and watched in interest as a white fog began issuing from the horn. It was deathly silent, but after about ten minutes the whole clearing and the area a bit beyond was veiled in the white mist, so she turned it off, hardly able to see a thing now.

The gas sunk then, seeping into every gap and cranny of the tents at once, and Des heard the thuds of elves who had been sleeping on their feet falling to the ground. When the mist reached the ground it disappeared, and Des was left standing in a completely silent clearing as every Green-Wood elf slumbered in their now unconscious states.

She took her gas mask off when she was positive it was gone, and smirked to herself. _Time for the fun to begin._

_3 hours later_

Des walked back to her cave, the Gas Breather, gas mask, rope and paint in tow. She was smiling the whole way, thinking how good revenge felt. Hopefully her message to Rohan would have arrived by then and they would be on their way to see the surprise she had left them.

She had just rounded the corner that would lead her back home when she heard the furious howl. _Intruder_.

Picking up her pace, Des ran the rest of the way, hoping that whoever the interloper was hadn't seen her and the pack's den. When the cave entrance came into view, however, she saw a shocking sight. The wolves were all crowded around in a circle, teeth bared and snarling. They kept pouncing forwards then back again with snapping jaws and vicious barks. And in the middle, holding his ground with his bow and arrow at the ready, and despite the numerous cuts Des could see on him, stood Legolas, managing to keep the wolves at bay.

_'Hey_,' Des barked in wolvish. Shelia, the white wolf, turned away from the huddle, but the rest of the wolves continued their harassing attack. Legolas saw her and trained his bow on her, but when one wolf pounced at him again he went back to the defensive.

'_Malinrri_,' the pack leader acknowledged. The name was wolvish for Pack-Friend. '_The elf came shortly after you did, and explored our cave,_' she growled softly. At Des's panicked look she added, '_Just the front; your rooms remained untouched_.' Des nodded, relieved, and gestured for Shelia to go on. '_He did nothing, so we await your call – shall we grant him life or death?_'

'_I would have expected you to have already killed him by now_,' Des mused.  
Shelia growled grumpily. '_He is good with his bow._' Des nodded, but her attention was suddenly brought to the pack as Lywien, an old, black wolf, howled loudly and Legolas gave off a strangled yell. He had not been able to keep them all off, and Des watched in shock as Lywien's teeth sank deep into his leg.

'_No_!' she barked, and the wolves all drew away at once, though many of them looked quite smug with their work. She ran up and pushed her way through them. '_Help me get him to my rooms_,' she said, looking down at the crucially injured prince before her. 'He will not die by my hand,' she added to herself.

The wolves growled a bit before grudgingly pulling him to the caves, and Des worried as she followed them, praying that her expectations didn't come true.

Wolves were the only known creatures that could consume the poisonous Fire-Berries, and so they ate these a lot because they were so plentiful. It meant that they spared much of Fangorn Forest's food, but it also meant that wolf bites were charged with poison. Anyone bitten by a wolf's fang stood a ninety percent chance of death.

She didn't know why, but she felt the need to save him and prevent him from this fate. She supposed that it was all those years ago, when Thranduil had wanted her dead and Legolas had persuaded him to just leave her behind. Even if it was just because he was tired and wanted to go home, Des still felt like she owed him, as much as she didn't want to. She would just leave him in the clearing when he was healed, and then she would be indebted to him no more.

Ten minutes later saw her safely in her cave with Legolas's now shivering body lying on the coffee table, and she set about gathering ingredients and medicines as fast as she could – the young prince had only moments left to live.

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_Legolas POV_

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There was a dull pain everywhere, and he could feel a horrible throbbing sensation in his upper thigh. That was the first thing Legolas noticed. The second thing he noticed, was that he was feeling uncomfortably vulnerable, and a quick glance at his body told him why. His battle gear had been stripped away, and he was wearing nothing but his thin tunic and leggings, though at his left leg the material had been rolled up to reveal a thickly bandaged wound.

Memories came rushing to him from the night before. He remembered noticing movement towards his left from his post in an oak tree, and how he had followed a mysterious elleth to her home in the caves. He had only realised that she was the legendary Woman of the Woods when her pack of black and white wolves ambushed him. _A bite, _he remembered. That was what was causing this dull pain.

Legolas sighed and carefully lifted a thick, green duvet off his lower body. He looked around at his surroundings – it appeared that he was in cave, but not one of the ones he had explored during the night. A roof of thick rock covered his head and a simple chandelier of candles hung from it, giving a warm light to the room. A curved ledge ran the perimeter of the cave, and plants grew in vases on it. Tulips, roses, irises, cornflowers and green vines of ivy curled around the crevices and juts of the rock wall, creating a sort of inner wall that cocooned the cosy cave's insides.

The room was bright and colourful for a cave, thought Legolas. It was also adorned with all the basic elements, like a wardrobe, armchair, and the low but puffy bed that he was currently lying on. Blankets, rugs and scattered pillows covered the floor, and Legolas found that they softened his footfalls when he began making his way across the room; grabbing his battle gear and cloak on his way. He had just reached the door when something glistening in the candlelight caught his eye. Turning towards a small cupboard he saw that a big vial lay in one of its drawers. The drawer was still open, and it looked as though whoever lived here had left in a hurry and forgotten to lock it.

He went to it and picked up the vial. It was fill to the brim with a clear liquid that shimmered slightly, and Legolas almost dropped it in shock when he realised what it was. A_ Changing Potion_. It was impossible, he thought. Only one person owned such a substance, and that was Galadriel, the Lothlorién queen.

He felt his gaze harden. He knew where he was standing. This was surely the den of the Guardian of the Forest, and he knew of her thieving ways. Legolas felt himself go red with fury, and pocketed the vial in his hunting cloak. _To steal from the queen_, he thought heatedly. He turned back to the door and was about to leave, when suddenly the handle turned on its own accord and the door swung inwards.

Legolas froze. Standing on the other side was a brown-haired, brown-eyed, short elleth who looked just as shocked as he felt. Legolas quickly took in her features. She was pretty, but nothing special. She had shoulder-length curly hair, a heart-shaped face and olive skin. Legolas narrowed his eyes at this dark hue, and felt a wave of surprise as he realised that she was not an elf at all. _She must be a human_, he thought. She was more graceful and slender than most women though, and did not possess the curves that they usually had. He looked to her ears for confirmation, but they were obscured by her brown locks.

She looked alarmed to see him there, and Legolas jumped as she blurted out, 'What are you doing? The sleeping draught I gave you should still take effect for two more hours!'  
Legolas felt himself being brought back from his observations with a snap, and straightened his posture, deciding to be as charming as possible. 'Forgive me, my lady, but I must return to my comrades.' He gave her a smile that he knew made most ladies swoon. 'Thank you for your hospitality. I take it you were the one who healed me?' he asked in his sweet, musical voice.

The woman nodded tersely. Legolas continued, 'Well you have saved my life, thank you so much.' He watched her reaction, and was surprised to see none of the usual emotions he encountered in females flickering across her face. Instead of bashfulness, awe, or wistfulness, he received a cold, suspicious glare, and noticed hate wavering behind her eyes.

Taking a step back, he asked confusedly, 'Have I done something to offend you, my lady?'  
If anything, she just scowled at him harder. 'No,' she all but spat. 'You may be on your way.'  
She turned and began walking away from the room, so Legolas took this as his cue to follow her, still baffled by her cold attitude.

She led him out a series of tunnels that Legolas vaguely managed to keep track of, and soon he saw daylight again. She abruptly stopped when she got to the entrance, and Legolas walked a few paces ahead of her before her voice from behind halted him in mid-step. 'Be warned, though, Prince,' it was deadly silent; hardly a whisper in the wind, but Legolas's keen hearing caught her threatening words. 'Should you come snooping where you do not belong again, I shall not be so kind next time, and will leave you to your own fate.'

Legolas watched as she turned immediately in a swish of hunting cloaks, her brown hair bellowing behind her as she disappeared into the mountain's caves.

What was her problem? He turned forwards, puzzled again, and noticed that a chestnut horse had been tied to a small post, waiting for him. There was no saddle, but the bridle was of good quality, and a small packet of nuts had been tied to the reins. Legolas mounted the mare and after settling down, began trotting in the direction his elvish senses told him the clearing was. The nuts were pre-cracked macadamias, and Legolas was surprised to discover that they were unusually delicious for a non-elven food.

As he manoeuvred the horse down the slope of the mountain and back into the more dense forest, his thoughts turned back to the woman on his mind, and Legolas felt a fresh wave of intrigue hit him as he began trying to figure her out. She was…different. He could not decide whether she was too dainty, pure and graceful to be a woman, or if she was too strong-jawed, dark-skinned and short to be an elf. Although, now that he thought about it, she was also too short to be a woman. He remembered seeing her that morning – she had been about a foot shorter than him. _Just another mystery to add to the Guardian of the Forest_, he thought.

He sighed. He didn't understand anything about her. He knew that she only stole or killed to protect Fangorn Forest, yet she stole the Changing Potion from Lady Galadriel. He knew now that her ability to remain constantly different in appearance was due to the said vial, but even without it he could not determine what she was. She was mistrusting, yet she had saved his life; she had lived in the forest for years, yet no one knew anything of her past before that. She was deathly silent and cautious, could speak the wolf tongue, lived with ents, forest animals and the black and white wolves, had such contrasting emotions and beliefs…oh and just to top it off, she appeared to hate his guts for some reason!

Legolas lifted his eyes to the skies and exhaled deeply. He didn't understand the Woman of the Woods, but as much as he wanted to go back and figure her out, he had more urgent matters to attend to, and the troupe were probably searching madly for him by now.

A couple of turns later, Legolas found himself in the depths of Fangorn Forest and all its beauty, and he couldn't help but marvel at the ancient oaks and the whisperings of the wind in the trees. He let a soft smile out and closed his eyes at the comfort of the nature, enjoying the way it reminded him slightly of the Mirkwood forests, and also took his mind away from other certain things.

Soon he heard voices, and realised that he was approaching the clearing. Opening his blue eyes softly but still bathing in the tranquil peace of the trees, Legolas edged his horse forwards until the clearing came nicely into view.

What he saw, however, wiped away all possibilities of peace and tranquillity, and he felt his eyes widen to the size of sauce plates and his jaw drop open in shock. In front of him, a huge commotion was taking place, and the bustle of men and women moving around and laughing in hysterics was brought to his ears.

_The entire population of Rohan must be here_, he thought, speechless as he took in the people clothed in browns and reds. And looking to the edge of the clearing, it was obvious as to why such a gathering had come. Fifteen elves had been hung upside down from long coils of rope that had been tied to the tips of the Fangorn trees bordering the clearing. Each elf had been stripped to nothing but a thin piece of material covering…well, _there_. Legolas felt himself go red with embarrassment on his kingdom's behalf – the elves themselves were completely asleep; each oblivious to the ropes tied to his feet, or the fact that hundreds of men and women were openly gawking, laughing and sketching pictures of them.

Legolas dismounted his horse as if in a daze, and began stumbling in sheer shock towards his fellow people; to do what though, he had no idea. As he got closer, he noticed more things. The rest of the elves not tied up had all been casually lain on the floor, though all were in the same clothing, or, more suitably, _lack _of. Legolas looked again at the elves dangling from the ropes, and cringed. It was the most important elves who had been suspended; the ones who were first to voice their opinions, and the oldest ones who had been together at every hunt. He winced when he saw Thranduil at the front of the line, arms limp and face peaceful as though the king were simply in a dream. _More like nightmare_, thought Legolas, continuing to look around in dismay.

On every hanging elf's loincloth, except for the ones who represented spaces in between words, a letter had been drawn on in scarlet paint. He experienced a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembered who he had seen carrying a red paint tub last night. Legolas felt his face contort in fury and abruptly turned around. Ignoring the slight tremor of anger in his shoulders, he stormed towards his tent, every footfall a stomp that crushed the ground beneath him. 'You had all better be gone when I come out again!' he roared for the whole clearing to hear on his way.

There was silence for a moment as the Rohirrím noticed the prince for the first time and looked around in fear and disappointment at their cue to leave. Legolas didn't wait to watch them as he shut the tent flap behind him harshly after entering his bivouac. What had the Greenwood elves done? _Nothing_, he thought. So why, written in capitals, had the Guardian of the Forest said that? He stood deathly still as he felt red rage burn his eyes. This time, however, it was in the form of letters.

_THIS IS PAYBACK._

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**Hope you all liked this chappie ;)**


	5. Chapter 5: Departure

**IMPORTANT! From now on I will be displaying important information, if there is any, at the bottom of chapters, and all the other shit that no one gives a damn about, like disclaimers, my thanks to reviewers and sometimes reminders, will be shown above the chapters! Kay, cool ;)**

**Reminder of the previous chapter: **_Des heals Legolas only to have him steal a treasure. Both of them are curious of each other, but Legolas's feelings turn to hatred when he comes to the clearing to find chaos. The elves are humiliated and the Rohan people are laughing and sketching images of them, with fifteen elves displaying the words, THIS IS PAYBACK. _

**Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien holds all the rights to this story. **

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Departure

_Des POV_

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Des rummaged through her wardrobe. Having been told by Shelia that a group of hunters were approaching the forest borders, she had put aside all her confused and angry feelings and got ready for the ambush ahead. She wondered what Legolas would think when he found out what she'd done. Would he hate her? She banished thought, what did it matter anyway? Des didn't care about any of the greenwood elves.

She refilled her quiver with arrows and tightened her belt, finishing off her hunting outfit with her brown jacket. She was just about to leave the door of her cave when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She sighed. Her hair was already an extremely dark brown and her eyes had gone hazel again. What would the Mirkwood elves think of her if he saw what she truly looked like? _Uh! Stupid thoughts._ Shaking her head, she went to her drawer to apply some more changing potion, when she noticed that it was empty.

Frowning she scanned the area around, but still didn't see the large vial. Growing panicky, she opened the cupboard beneath, but only the map was there, so she slammed it shut and frantically searched the cave for a spot that it could have fallen and rolled to.

Suddenly Des froze and felt herself grow deathly still as she stared at her unmade bed. The bed Legolas had been sleeping in only a couple of hours ago.

Feeling fury rise in her body, Des grabbed her hunting cloak and stormed out her room, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang and causing several wolves in the next cave to be startled awake from their naps.

Gritting her teeth to keep from screaming, she called for Lupinea and watched as her wolf came bounding from a tunnel to her left. 'Okay,' she snarled to herself as she clambered onto her back. 'Let's ride.'

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_Legolas POV_

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The elvish party was silent as they began making their way out of Fangorn forest. The two scouts Thranduil had sent to Edoras, Rohan's centre city, joined them soon on the backs of the two brown steeds they had left on.

Thranduil gestured that they ride beside him, and Legolas, who was riding just behind, was able to easily hear their conversation.  
'Report,' his rather told them.

Ethirdir, the older of the two, spoke in a hushed tone. 'The task is completed, my lord. The king of Rohan agreed that all paintings be discarded and that none of his people would ever speak of the event again.' Legolas doubted even the king would be able to do that, but destroying the evidence would prevent the event from becoming historical, and travellers would just think of it as a rumour or story.

Thranduil looked relieved. 'Good. If that is all you may go.'

Ethirdir and the second scout, Celenon, exchanged glances. 'My lord,' said Celenon in an even quieter tone, 'There is something else.'

Thranduil turned to look at the scouts with interest. 'Proceed.'

'As we were coming back through the forest, we saw the Guardian of the Forest on wolf-back. We believe she is following us.'

Legolas saw rage flash across his father's face before it turned into a sneer. 'Well then, we had better meet properly, now that both parties are conscious.' The scouts fell to the back of the line as Thranduil turned to his son. 'Ready your bow Legolas.' He held up his hand to signal that the company should halt. 'Prepare for a battle!' he called to them.

As the elves dismounted and withdrew their swords, Legolas notched an arrow with a sense of unease. Whatever reason the Woman of the Woods had had for humiliating them, he hoped it had been worth her life.

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_Des POV_

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Something was wrong. Perched on the highest branches of a tall oak, Des nimbly descended the tree and crept towards the silent elvish company. They had all dismounted their horses and were staring straight ahead, unmoving.

Des cautiously stepped forward, but with her attentions on the elves she didn't notice the dry twig beneath her, and cringed when it snapped loudly in half.

Too late she realised what was going on as fifty armed elves turned around in one swift motion and aimed their bows on her. A deep, booming laugh came forward as King Thranduil emerged through a pathway his elves made for him.

'Looking for something?' he asked maliciously. He put a hand into the inner folds of his robe and Des felt her hands clench as he pulled out her Changing Potion.

'That's mine,' she snarled. 'Give it back or I'll give my wolves the signal to attack.' She glared at him as the king noticed the many eyes watching his company from the tree shadows.

He laughed then, a deep, musical sound that grated on Des's nerves. 'Dear child.' He looked down at her and she was frightened to see the power gleaming in his eyes. _Wild_ power that was unpredictable and frightening. 'First of all, if you so much as raise a finger, I shall give _my_ guards the signal to shoot every arrow in their quivers upon you, until you are nothing more than a dead fool.' He paused and looked at the vial in his hand. 'And second of all, this potion belongs to the Lady Galadriel, not _you_: a mere thief pretending to be a hero.'

Des spluttered at the insult. 'No, she gave it to me!'

Thranduil's gaze hardened as he looked back at her. 'Do not lie to me again, Guardian of the Forest.'

'I am not a liar or a thief!' she said, refusing to back down, and in one lightning quick movement took out her ready bow. At the sudden movement one of the elves released an arrow before Thranduil gave the command, and so not hesitating a moment, Des let her own arrow fly, moving her face to avoid the whiplash. She let out a silent breath when it split the other in mid arc, stopping what would have been a fatal hit.

'The next one goes through your pretty little head,' she said to the king after speedily notching a second arrow.

Thranduil's smile disappeared, but something darker lurked behind his eyes. 'I was hoping it wouldn't come to this,' he said. Des frowned when she noticed his hand was still raised. In one slow but ever so subtle movement, Thranduil lowered his ring finger.

Des looked up from her bow in confusion as a bowstring twanged. There was a tiny _thunk_ to her left, and then suddenly, a bloodcurdling howl from one of her wolves.

No.

Shelia howled then and let out a strangled whimper. Des felt as if the world had turned into a slow-motion blur. Her bow slid out of her grasp and fell to the soft soil as she twirled in sorrow to see a dying wolf. Lywien, the oldest of the black wolves was lying motionless on the forest floor, the poison from the tip of the arrow embedded in his skin already sinking through his veins and slowing his heart.

Des ran over to where he lay and knelt next to him. The crimson blood didn't even stain his already black fur.

This was the wolf who had taught her how to hunt when they were both young.

She ran her fingers through his scraggly dark fur as a silent sob broke through her chest.

She remembered how she had practised her braiding on his tail when he was asleep. She remembered how furious he had been when he woke, but then forgiven her when she told him it made him look younger.

An elf approached her to tie her hands. Stop. He had to stop. She just wanted to cry in peace.

No. _She_ had to stop. There would be time to mourn later. Moving her hands in the elvish gesture of safe passing, Des took a deep breath and wiped an arm across her tear-stricken face, smearing blood across her cheek but not even caring.

She rose to give a last fight, but the strong elf held her against him as another bound her hands behind her back. She flailed around in his grasp until she caught sight of Lywien's body again. Shelia stood guard above him, and Des caught her eye. An unspoken command passed between them and Des watched as the wolf leader nudged the body onto another's back.

With one last look back at her, the wolf pack stole into the safety of the trees. They would have a proper goodbye ceremony for Lywien, and no more would die that day. There was nothing they could do to help Des. They would be outnumbered if they chose to fight, and Des did not want to risk another's life for her own.

She closed her eyes. She had shed many tears. Not enough worth Lywien's life, but too many to think clearly in her current situation. The wolf would pass safely into the next world, and he would have a good new life. Des, however, was still stuck in this one, and it wasn't heading in best direction.

She bit her lip until all she could feel was red. Red blood in her mouth, and red anger in her heart. Her eyes snapped open and she shoved away the guard who had his hand on her back and was guiding her towards King Thranduil. She was no weak elleth. Des walked up to the Mirkwood king and looked him straight in the eye.

'I am sorry we had to resort to violence,' he said, voice devoid of tone. For some reason, Des actually believed that he hadn't wanted that to happen, but it had nonetheless, and Des was not planning on forgiving him any time soon. 'I am glad you are finally co-operating. You are under hostage and I shall imprison you when we return to Mirkwood. We head for Rivendell now though, as I have important matters to discuss with Lord Elrond.'

_How lovely_, thought Des.

'So,' she asked snidely, 'Aren't you going to unbind my hands so that I can ride?'

Thranduil stopped in mid-turn to look at her. 'Do you take me for a fool?' He completed the arc and goaded his horse forwards and away from her. 'Celenon!' he called. 'Attend to the captive.'

A young, muscular elf with dark eyes and light, elbow-length hair came forward. He looked her up and down before leaning down and hoisting her onto his horse with one arm. He sat her down directly in front of him and grabbed the reins on either side of her, using his hips to urge the horse forwards.

Des grumbled at the uncomfortable position as the elves trotted into a good formation around them. They were all murmuring quietly amongst each other, and Des caught her title in many of their sentences. She rolled her eyes, then jumped when the horse in front of her reared slightly off the ground. The stallions being all around her made her nervous and edgy, and she wanted nothing more than to be back on the firm, safe back of Lupinea.

Suddenly one of the elves in front turned to face her, and she was met with familiar blue eyes. Her heart beat a little faster as the Elf Prince looked deeply into hers, making her feel strangely unsettled. His eyes were full of emotion, and Des had a feeling that he was trying to tell her that he was sorry. Suddenly he frowned and looked at her hair too, and Des realised that, without the changing potion, her features were probably going back to their proper colours. Feeling panicky, she avoided Legolas's gaze, hoping her irises weren't a shade of purple yet.

A distraction came when Thranduil gave orders to the party, successfully diverting Legolas's attention. 'We ride at a good pace – we must arrive before dawn. And…Woman of the Woods, one more thing.' He looked directly at her beneath beautifully thick eyebrows, but with menacing blue eyes as his voice dropped to a threatening tone. 'Should you _stop_ co-operating at any time, I guarantee that you will regret ever being born.'

_Don't worry Thranduil_, she thought darkly, _I regret that already_.

* * *

**To all the older followers (who I love by the way ;) ) I've added in a prologue that you might enjoy, it's sort of set in the future. It's in chapter 1, don't know if you want to check it out xx**


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